


Part of You

by oasis_wasteland



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Gen, Rip Hunter-centric, RipFic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oasis_wasteland/pseuds/oasis_wasteland
Summary: Rip Hunter spent five years building the Time Bureau.These are five key moments in his journey.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

Director Ava Sharpe sat on her new desk with the weight of the whole timeline on her shoulders.

Mallus—or as the demon corrected “Malice”—was defeated, his remains buried under hundreds of years and blue fluff. Time was more or less intact; the Bureau finally called a truce with the legends after Ava's takeover and were helping put time back together.

She thought it would be easy; no new anachronisms appeared; they had the resources to fix all remaining ones. She thought wrong. Ava always thought of herself as a follower, she needed a mission and a job to do, logistics, practicality, and fighting. She never wanted the bureaucracy, the niceties, or the asking for funds.

That was what Bennett and Hunter were for. And she was glad, grudgingly, to have Rip helping her when he asked to be reinstated after her unfortunate and sudden promotion.

But Rip was gone, and he left her with a whole agency to run and many trust issues. The latter being the reason an agent knocked on her door and announced, “Director, that search you had us run for any irregularities in the database, we found one. It's not an encrypted personnel file, but a log, from two years ago, that shows an anachronism file and all its backups were manually deleted.”

Ava wasn't surprised.

***

“Do I know you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? You look familiar.”

Ava, impatiently, repeated, “no.”

“Okay... You know how many times I tried to hack this place?”

Ava glared at the blonde woman sitting behind three computer screens who had not stopped talking ever since they called her in. “That was you?” She shrugged and adjusted her glasses. “Why would you do that?”

“Have you seen how suspicious your whole operation is?” She gave Ava an incredulous look. “A new building pops out of nowhere, and no one knows what it's actually for? And all those cheap suit uniforms. What's up with that?”

Ava turned to Sara who looked like she was agreeing with the woman. “This is who you brought to help?”

Sara smiled sheepishly. “Listen, Felicity is the best person for this job. If there's someone who can retrieve that file, it's her.”

Felicity was looking very smug then. She twirled a strand of hair in her hand and asked, “so who did your security? Because—and I'm sure you've noticed—none of my attacks and exploits worked.”

“Oh, that was Gideon. She's the Waverider’s AI—”

“I know who Gideon is. Wow!” The look of awe people got when it came to Gideon covered her face. “No wonder I failed so miserably—Never repeat that to anyone!”

“Don't worry,” Ava tried to sound reassuring and not mocking. She really didn't care to repeat that to anyone. “Do you have everything you need? How long will this take?”

“Yes, and I don't know. I need time to get familiar with your network and systems, and I definitely need some information about whoever deleted the file and how good they are.”

“That was Rip,” Sara answered. Ava noticed this was the first time Sara said his name without inflection. “And he's really good and I'm guessing really driven to hide whatever is in that file.”

“Thanks for making my job easy,” Felicity muttered. Ava could, wholeheartedly, relate to that sentiment. “Wait, Rip? As in Rip Hunter?”

“Yes,” Sara and Ava both answered.

“He's real?”

“Of course,” Sara and Ava both answered, again. Sara sent her a small smile.

“Is he really?” Felicity insisted. “Each time we meet the legends, you're all like ‘he's dead’, ‘he's missing’, ‘he left’, ‘he disbanded the legends’, ‘he's missing’. It all sounds very flimsy.”

Sara floundered, not knowing what to say exactly. Ava understood, she didn't know how to argue, and she actually knew the man and worked with him for years, trusted him for years. Yet sometimes, he didn’t feel real. Felicity looked like she was enjoying their confusion which snapped Ava back. “He's definitely real.”

“Do you have proof?” Felicity challenged with barely concealed glee.

Ava answered with barely concealed annoyance, “he built the bureau, where you are sitting, right now.”

“He started the legends. Come on!” Sara seemed to be getting as frustrated as Ava felt.

“Right, but do you have a picture? A drawing? No one’s actually met this guy.”

Sara was shaking her head ‘no’ when Ava remembered. “You can pull up a picture from his personnel file, just look through the... uhm... the inactive agents.”

Felicity started pressing buttons then went quiet. “He's dead… again?” Ava didn't say anything. Sara looked down. Ava knew his death hurt Sara more than it affected her. Of course, She mourned him, but the last months of knowing him—or basically finding out she never knew him—then discovering her past and the part he played in it, left a bitterness towards her memories of him. Ava was angry. Angry she never got the answers she needed, answers only Rip had. Angry with how she had to live with never knowing.

“That's Rip?” Felicity said and turned her screen towards them. An unsmiling image of her previous boss started back at them. “I've met this guy!” Felicity looked lost in thought for a moment. “I can't believe I met the Rip Hunter.” She muttered to herself, her eyes still unfocused.

“Wait, hold up! What do you mean you _met_ him?” Sara asked.

Felicity ignored the question and stared at Ava. “That's where I know you from. A few years ago—maybe four or five? —this starved-looking British guy showed up at work and he asked for my help. It was kind of scary because he knew about things I've hacked in the past, but I mostly agreed because the pay was good.”

“He offered you money?” Sara asked same time Ava said, “What did he want?”

“Intel, not money. Really good intel.” She then gave Ava a sympathetic smile. “To create official files for you, a digital footprint, an online existence, especially in government agencies.”

Ava felt Sara's hand on her arm, but she couldn't react. She already knew her past was fabricated, he even hired actors to be her parents, this was basically nothing. She just couldn't understand “why?”

Sara softly answered, “I don't think anyone really understands why Rip does anything. He's certainly not going to say.”

Ava thought she did. She thought she knew Director Rip Hunter, a man she respected and gladly followed. That was until his Mallus obsession started, his weird decisions regarding the Legends, his disappearance for long periods of time. The secrets. This file, whatever anachronism Rip had hidden from everyone, she needed to know what it was.

So, she pulled herself together and told Felicity, “do whatever you have to and find out what that file was.”


	2. Beginning of the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rip's first destination after leaving the legends.

_‘Are you part of the universe?’_

* * *

As he wandered through the city for a while, Rip hadn’t recognised the area he reached. After the war nothing resembled its old state, all the city's beauty buried under fire and death.

He then crossed a fountain that stood forlorn among the rubble, dry, cracked, but not unrecognisable. Not to Rip, at least. He finally remembered this park.

In a distant memory, Rip can hear a splash, excited laughter before a whispered wish. Miranda telling Jonas to stay away from the edge, or he'll get his new outfit wet. His son leaned further, Miranda turned to Rip with exasperation and swore he only rebelled during Rip’s visits.

Rip gave Jonas the same warning his mother had. This time, though, the boy stood up without a word and started chasing an alarmed duck. When he thought she'd be annoyed, Miranda's laugh echoed in his head.

Grief tightened its grip on his heart.

A Rip Hunter had just lost his chance to kill savage, another before had just buried his wife and child, another countless Rips tried time after time, minute before minute to save his family, to run away. All those memories pulled Rip into a cage of despair. One he had only recently broken free of.   
His shoulders hunched; feet shuffled slower.

He felt sore after he landed the Jumpship with the mightiest jolt that shook the ground and caved the earth, sending an avalanche of dirt on the fallen trees ahead. Rip had almost knocked himself unconscious with that landing, if Gideon were here, he'd never hear the end of it. He hoped the Jumpship would, in anyway, still operate.

That was the first of many signs how bad an idea coming to that year was.

Although he thought it redundant to camouflage the ship—with the destruction surrounding it—Rip did just that and hoped it went unnoticed.

His breath grew heavier the deeper into the city remains he went. The smoke grew thicker, the shouts louder. He didn't fancy a run in with the locals just yet, so he avoided the latter and headed deeper into the smoke’s source. Later realised as an ongoing battle between the rebellion and what remained of Savage’s troops.

Thick smoke hugged the debris, the distant shouts grew nearer, flashes of light peaked through the cloud of smoke. Rip just narrowly dodged an arbitrary bullet racing his way. He crouched behind what used to be a bench and watched the fight in front of him. He quickly counted five troops’ hiding places, a sixth was standing in bare sight, blasting shots in every direction. Two shadows ran out of range. Between one blink and the next, the trooper fell to the ground and the firing ceased for one second before chaos.

People in masks and others without ran and shot at each other, Rip didn't abandon his post and assessed the situation. Who was on which side, where to shoot. The captain had the advantage of concealment and surprise. He was also a better shot than fighter.

His third bullet dropped another troop when the fight died down. Rip left the bench, and walked around the edges, out of sight. He heard the clang of blades nearby and headed towards, just around the end of a stone stairway. Almost slipped twice on broken steps, his gun raised as the grunts of a fight got louder. The second Rip glimpsed the soldier, he fired, acting on instinct and adrenalin.

A figure spun to face him; Rip tensed as he recognised the fighter.

Her head cocked, and eyes narrowed, “Gareeb.”

Rip flinched in response, a grimace wrinkling his face. “Please, do not call me that.”

She smiled and came up to him after checking the pulse of the soldier. “What are you doing here... _Captain Hunter?”_

He shrugged. “Helping.”

Cassandra Savage didn't stop to converse and asked as she walked past him. “And what? Time doesn’t need saving anymore?” She kept looking around, checking every nook and alley for people.

With not much to do at that moment, Rip started doing the same, looking for danger or survivors. His heart ached with the memory of doing exactly that, only to find the bodies of his family, lifeless and discarded. “Time can hold up together without me for a while.”

Cassandra let out a laugh. “And how did your masters allow you off your leash?”

Realisation of her implication hit him, and he remembered he never came back to update her. Not even on what happened to her father. “There are no more Time Masters.”

That seemed to be what finally made her pause and look at him. “How?”

“We blew them up—the legends and I.” She only looked more inquisitive. Rip held his breath, hoping he wouldn't have to say it out loud. “The Time Masters were in league with your father, they gave him all the means of destruction to use and the whole world at his mercy.”

She stood still for a minute, her head bowed, the whole world paused holding its breath. It felt empty and wide as they stood in the rubble of the last standing city. Two people once on opposite sides, now fighting to the same end, a unified hope.

Her eyes met his, so deep and anguished, he can almost see her memories flitting behind them. “Now, we both know how it feels.” Her tone wasn't smug but understanding. She looked around at the fallen trees and broken city, then asked quietly, “What of your family?”

“Their fate was sealed by the Time Masters.” She frowned but didn't say anything. Her silence held an apology she didn't have to make, but he felt it in the tension of her body and heaviness in the air.

***

Casandra Savage changed from their first meeting. Not in mannerisms, she was still very much the warrior he met. Not how she'd slain a soldier in seconds and punched a thief who'd taken rations of food to smuggle and sell. But the kindness in other actions, how she'd stopped to check on people they found on the way to camp, how she'd check for wounds and attend to them, her soft tone with children.

Rip trailed behind her, helped where he could but didn't interfere. She didn't object to his presence or question it again. They made it to the camp, a group of over ten people following them. Mothers holding on to their children, and the wounded leaning on the healthy. Feet shuffling in a rhythm that disrupted for a second when a tremor shook the earth.

Most of them stopped, including Rip. Cassandra hadn't and that only worried the captain more.

Another tremor dropped a couple of boxes stacked together. Rip took a defensive position, hand resting on his gun.

“Relax.” He wasn't sure if she was addressing him or the group of survivors, whose grips on each other tightened and faces turned ashen. Either way, no one relaxed. Cassandra called for the paramedics, who ran and ushered everyone to a place. Only one of them eyed Rip and the rest completely ignored him.

The trembling got stronger and closer and more frequent. Until Rip felt it, the rhythm, like steps. He turned to Cassandra, who was counting items in the fallen boxes and righting them, his eyes wide in recognition.

“Is that...”

She shrugged with a proud smile. “Leviathan? Yes.”

His pulse quickened at the confirmation, the last time he and the legends were here, he didn't get to fully see the giant—only felt his attacks—or admire the tech behind it.

“But Dr Palmer destroyed him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, Hunter. Don't be so arrogant. The Atom put him down, yes, but Leviathan is not that easily destroyed, after all we built him. He was fixed, removed his last orders and triggers. He obtains a bit of consciousness, no verbal communication skills, but he's excellent help.”

Rip's heart skipped in excitement, the wonder of unknown technology. Questions ran in his head, how was he powered? Where did the consciousness come from?

A shadow fell over Rip making him look up, and there he towered: Leviathan. Glowing and marvellous. Rip noticed how careful the steps were, how tentative of where they landed.

“Leviathan is our best ally. Helps with transporting heavy things and rescuing people from attacks we can't reach.” Cassandra sounded nonchalant, but he saw the pride of turning something that was used for murder into one that could inspire hope and save people. It was all in the glint of her eyes: guilt, hope and longing.

“It's brilliant.” He didn't mean to sound so breathless.

A moment of silence fell, she stacked the boxes while Rip stared at Leviathan.

When done, she turned to him. “So, where are your legends?”

 _Not mine anymore,_ thought Rip. He gave her a shrug. “Out there, wreaking havoc on time, I'm sure.”

She gestured he follow her and continued, “and you're letting them?”

They fell in step **.** “The legends are on a learning curve that only goes up in my absence.” She made a confused sound. “Making ‘Rip’ proud seems a better incentive than actually listening to what I have to say when present.”

“What did you expect from them?”

“Oh! They both exceeded and underwhelmed my expectations.”

“I think they'd be okay if Snart’s leading them?” Rip winced; the memory of their fallen friend weighed on his conscience once again. She'd stopped at the look on his face. “Snart is gone. He sacrificed himself for the team—the world really. He stayed behind to blow up the Time Masters.”

Whatever she was about to say was interrupted. “Cassandra, a fire erupted in the West Camp C. They suspect foul play.”

Their conversation and all its effect washed from her face, her expression hardened, posture readied for a fight. “Did you send a team?”

The other woman's face was pale with worry. “I did. They were supposed to check in, but—” she shook her head. “No word.”

“How long?”

“Two hours.”

“Tell Jakob to get a vehicle around, and Syd to load it with provisions, then meet me here in five.” The woman was readily marching away to relay the orders.

“I'm coming with you.” Rip declared.

She didn't spare him a glance away from her weapons which were making room in every fold or pocket on her person. “There's no need.”

“I came here to help and that's what I intend to do. I'm coming.”

“We don't need your help,” she snapped. “We've survived the whole _year_ you weren't here.”

“I couldn't—”

“You're a time traveller, Hunter, don't bullshit.”

“I couldn't risk going back to 2166, not after the all the involvements—” He realised his tone rose, so he quietly continued. “I've been in that year one too many times; it wasn't safe to go back.” She stared at him angrily, but he wouldn't back down. “I'm helping. And you know you need it.”

Before she had the chance to reject him again, a jeep skidded to a halt and Rip wasted no time jumping in. Cassandra took the driver's place, the man—or rather young boy, barely the age of sixteen—jumped in the back with another woman. Cassandra sent one last glare the Captain's way then duly sped towards the camp.

Rip understood why she'd be angry, she spent a year working tirelessly with the rebellion, Gideon confirmed that for him before he left. But Rip also understood that one year of rebuilding didn't erase the years she spent attacking the city. Rip was aware it was a cheap shot to remind her of that, so he didn’t. She had been manipulated by her only family and Rip knew all too well how that felt.

So, he let her simmer in her anger and hoped she'd reach a fair reasoning for his prolonged absence.

***

The sight which greeted the rescue party was grim, a skeleton of a building braced against a leaning pole, the foundations were eaten away by a blazing fire. A black cloud entwined with the flames. Screams filled the air, they told of pain and terror. Rip covered his face with the duster and ran towards the screams.

Singed hands stuck out from beneath rocks, cries of help called to him from every direction. He tried not to let helplessness weigh him down, there was no time to freeze. Focusing on the closest cries, he followed the sound to an aggregation of tents set alight. A boy whimpered under a pole; flames snaked near him.

Immediately, Rip went to him. Flashes of memories fought for attention, the boy's face kept changing, no matter how much Rip tried to clear his mind, the anguished boy’s eyes pleading for help kept changing to Jonas’ empty ones. It didn't deter him from putting his whole weight into lifting the pole, even when his vision blurred, whether from tears or the thick air. The boy had to be saved.

“You're going to be alright. I promise,” He reassured the boy. “You're doing great, just move when I say so, okay?” When no reply came, he called to him. “Hey, stay with me. What's your name?”

Through a sniffle, the boy finally answered, “Jamie.”

“Jamie, you're very brave, so I need you to listen. Are you listening?”

“Yes,” he choked out.

“Very good. When I say _now,_ you're going to move your legs away, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Can you count, Jamie?”

“I can.”

“Would you count to three for me?”

“Okay.” Rip braced himself. “One... Two...Three—”

“NOW!” He raised the pole off the kid's legs who scrambled away for safety. When Rip was sure he was far enough, he dropped the metal and went to the boy.

He carried him, covering his mouth and started for the rescue vehicles. The little boy cried the whole time. Rip tried consoling him, but he figured nothing he could say would erase the present horrors around them.

Just as they reached the vehicle, an explosion shook the ground from the direction Rip had just come from. Jamie’s crying intensified, he tightened his hold on him and tried to console and calm him down. When his shaking stopped, Rip sat him down to check for wounds. The woman who came with them was distributing water and bandages to survivors. “Does he need a paramedic?”

“Maybe,” Rip gently pressed on bruises and looked for bleeding. “Not immediately, but he should be checked out.” She nodded and handed him a bottle of water, which he passed to Jamie.

Now that he can clearly see him, he looked nothing like Jonas. Perhaps the innocence in his round face was all it took to take Rip back to the day he found Jonas.

“Can you take care of him?” He asked who he assumed was Syd. She smiled at the boy gently and nodded. “I'm going to leave you with the lady here, stay with her and don't move, alright?”

Jamie looked up, his lip quivering. “My Mummy?”

“I'll look for her,” Rip brushed the hair out of his face. “You stay here.”

Rip was heading back towards the fire when he saw it. A man dressed in drab civilian clothing, but with the gait of a soldier, was walking with purpose, a gun raised and pointed at none other than Cassandra. Rip would have yelled a warning if it weren't for what truly shocked him.

Cassandra turned in time to almost get a shot between her eyes when she, simply, disappeared in a flash of light.

The soldier stumbled back; the shot ricocheted in the distance.

“What the fuck?” Someone behind him said.

Rip not taking his eyes one inch away from where she was standing, quietly voiced, “indeed.”


End file.
